


Little Blaze, Come Home.

by Fateweaver



Series: DreamSMP Fics [3]
Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Daddy Issues, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Dead Wilbur Soot, DreamSMP - Freeform, Gen, Hybrid TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hybrids, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Misses TommyInnit, i am winging plot as i write, no beta we die like wilbur, rewriting, yee tommy's a blaze
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:29:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26962177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fateweaver/pseuds/Fateweaver
Summary: After Tommy was exiled from L'Manberg, things had NOT gone his way. His mind constantly wandered over to the friends he had been forced to leave behind, to his dead brother, to his shattered family. The truth had been tethering on the edge of his mind, gently pushed away but pulled back at the same time, about his 'friend' Dream. The man had never been his friend, and never will. His grudge was too strong for the manipulation to work, for the time being.It was hard not to dwell on the past at times like this. Pasts that detailed the fiery realm known as the Nether, and the past that the boy had so desperately left behind. Now the Past felt warm and welcoming, like the heat from the lava underneath the bridges, or the constant presence of warmth of blaze rods that hovered around the boy the moment he chose to embrace his past.Unknown to Tommy, the SMP and people he had left behind have problems of their own to deal with too. Problems that may or may not have started to progress this fast if it weren't for him leaving.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Series: DreamSMP Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941376
Comments: 142
Kudos: 1088





	1. Little Blaze, Come Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEW READERS PLEASE READ:  
> Hihi! Welcome to my proudest work yet! This is a Hybrid AU, and old readers might recall that this book was once a story following the Election Arc. Don’t worry! I’m not clickbaiting you with the new desc depicting Exile Arc. This story is under rewrite to fit the Exile Arc and a single new character who joined the SMP after Election was settled (Who am I kidding it’s obviously Ranboo).
> 
> Rewritten chapters will have a giant REWRITTEN in its chapter summary. I’ll be replacing Election Arc chapters as I get more of the Exile Arc bits written, but the ones I’m not done will still be up and without the REWRITTEN badge. So if you spot plot inconsistency, it’s because of that. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy your stay in my book! I’m really proud of this one. If you want more Hybrid AU content or DreamSMP fic content from me consider checking out their respective series which this book is both under as you wait for rewrite to complete! Best of wishes and Merry Christmas to you all! <3

“Dream, please escort Tommy from L’Manberg.”

He’s now on a boat, with the green bastard himself, exiled from L’Manberg, a country  _ he  _ helped build from scratch. He was something between angry, betrayed, broken and sad (Mostly leaning a bit towards the broken and betrayed side). These words kept ringing around his head along with other verses Tubbo had said.

“You can’t do one thing for me!”

“You’re  _ selfish! _ ”   
  
The latter had stung. Yes, he was selfish, more so than the other might expect. Definitely more so than Ranboo had made him out to be. Nether, if he didn’t bolt that day when he was a little bitch and impulsive everything would’ve been different and maybe his family wouldn’t hate him. Nobody knew what he freaking did, and he wanted to keep it that way.

_ “Mhm, the humans finally got around to betraying you, eh?” _

Tommy stiffened, which went unnoticed by the man rowing their boat. His mouth gaped open and clamped shut within a second. That- That was not his voice, nor Tubbo’s, that just spoke in his head. Fear drilled into his bones as he attempted to calm enough to reply.

_ How the fuck did you get in my head? I renounced you! _

_ “Son, you are quite literally at your lowest point. It’s easy.” _

_ Get out!! _

_ “Hmph, don’t come crying a day later wanting my company.” _

_ Get the  _ _ fuck _ _ out of my head! _

His mind silenced after that, to Tommy’s relief. He hated how Boss Hybrids (Another word for Hybrids who rule over their respective category) Rulers could telepathically communicate with their children. It took so long for him to finally be able to renounce his blood and cut his blood-family off.

Now that his Dad is back, Tommy wasn’t sure what to think. Motherfucker was a controlling dick, and excels at guilt-tripping and manipulation, looking back in hindsight. His Mother was a blessing, being a stark contrast to his Father’s behavior and making sure the children know that’s not normal parenting behavior.

It was so hard not to light the dry logs on fire as he constructed his new shelter.

\---

“C-Can I go into the Nether, Dream?” It has been a while since the day of the exile. A very familiar voice had started to take root, being harder to push away everyday and keeping the boy up at night. His clothes were ripped, his hair was messed up, and his eyes had lost its glow. The portal looked so inviting.  _ It felt like home. _

_ And he hated that it does. _

Dream thought about it, “As long as you don’t go to the portals that lead back into DreamSMP or L’Manberg.”

Tommy’s breathing started to pick up in excitement. Was Dream serious? He could- He could go home? T-That is…… Granted, he tends to avoid the Nether just in case he gets kidnapped back into his blood family, but right now he’d take  _ any  _ comfort he could get that’s not from Dream.

The portal sounds might be loud, but he’s happy. Laughter bubbled out of the boy broken by betrayal and exile as familiar warmth welcomed their runaway home. It’s been so long since he had seen golden light emanating from glowstone, or the constant shade of red the coat that Netherrack don, or the tear-like tracks running down a Ghast’s face. He didn’t realize he was shaking until Dream reached out a hand to steady him.

_ “Welcome home, son.” _

Tommy didn’t care that the voice wasn’t his own. He didn’t care that the voice was rough and belonged to someone who tormented his early childhood. He didn’t c _ are.  _ DreamSMP rejected him. L’Manberg rejected him. Only the Nether truly stayed for him. Damn it, even if he hated it there, at least they wanted him. At least he belonged. He wanted to go back to the one home which had never rejected him before, despite being shitty in its core.

Something cracked. Like chains breaking and snapping as a sword arced down upon it. Someone was smiling as he felt the other end of the chains snap, too. Mind speech became easier, and a compass found its way back into the boy again. Pointing constantly at a citadel made of Nether Brick of deep colors, and fire burning forever bright. Gold lined the Citadel’s blackstone walls, flashing wealth and giving it a distinct appearance.

“Tommy?”

“T-Thank you Dream,” Tommy choked out, for once that sentence was genuine. Is there a fortress nearby? His heart was racing. His old home can’t be worse than exile, right? At least he’d have people to talk to, right?

“Tommy, what are you planning?” Dream’s voice was lined with suspicion. The way Tommy was acting was definitely out of character, and when Tommy starts acting out of character, he’s planning something. 

“Ah, nothing much Big D,” Tommy grinned, “I’m gonna stay away from L’Manberg. Just…… Not in Logstedshire?”

_ “Do you need to be picked up or do you want to head home yourself?” _

_ “I’m pretty sure the Dream guy isn’t human. May or may not want to be cautious about this.” _

_ I’ll be fine. When did you care this much? _

_ “You little bitch I’m trying to be a decent guy. Dream guy is pissed, by the way.” _

Tommy focused back onto the material realm. Dream’s hand was hovering over his axe, mask trained on the boy in front of him. Tommy thought of the multiple ways he could get out of this situation, before settling with the simple approach.

“I mean, I’ve been putting this off cause fuck it, the Nether sucks. But you made Tubbo exile me, I don’t have anywhere else. Logsteadshire is pretty shit, not gonna lie. I-I have no choice,” Tommy explained, fumbling over his words.

“You’re a Nether Hybrid?” Dream asked. The moment of silence between the two when Tommy didn’t answer confirmed the green bastard’s suspicion. This changed quite a lot of things, depending on which hybrid Tommy was. Wither? Dream very sincerely hope not. Ghast? Shouldn’t be too bad. Magma Cube? Easy, those guys were pushovers. Blaze? Well Dream’s not so confident anymore.

It’s less of the magical abilities that come with being a Hybrid, it’s more of the affiliations that come with being a Hybrid of a certain type. Unlike the Overworld, Nether Hybrids have societies of their own. Politics were very real and brutally annoying. Blazes were one of the strongest factions in the Nether alone, on par only with the Withers, not counting the fact that the Blazes have a strong grip over the Ghasts. Magma Cubes were not reliable on calling for aid. Piglins will help whoever pays the most, and unfortunately, the Blazes were wealthy.

Being a Hybrid is extremely rare, hence were very treasured among the faction’s arsenal. That often comes with said Hybrids carrying large political power and influence, being so valued. 

“Blaze,” Tommy smirked. He knew full well the implications behind his words. Nether, he might’ve only spent the first six years of his life fully with his Blaze Hybrid duties, but it was more than enough for the boy to know just how capable his faction was, and how much of a threat they posed.

Dream cussed under his breath. Oh  _ fuck.  _ The sole thing he is counting on is for the Blaze King to be abusive, but not the subtle manipulative mind games Dream was so used to playing. He grit his teeth, if he tried anything on Tommy, word will inevitably travel back to the Blaze King who would be rightfully enraged. He can’t be selfish. Unlike some other SMP Members who have family issues, he actually loves his Father, the Wither King.

He reluctantly stepped back, waving his hand in a ‘feel free’ gesture, “You know I can’t do anything without major consequences, you prick. You win  _ this  _ round.”

Laughter could be heard from a boy beyond his breaking point as he dug his feet into the ground before taking off, twelve glowing orange rods floating and following behind. His eyes now burned a bright orange, and the Nether heat didn’t feel that hot anymore. He maneuvered the Nether airs easily, flying towards a direction that drew to him once more, as he accepted what he once denounced once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What to expect from Rewrite:  
> Bits of Exile Arc  
> Red Egg/The Crimson ;)  
> Dream and Tommy’s fucked relationship instead of supportive in the original  
> A couple other fucked relationships  
> Ranboo


	2. Foreshadowing and Old Myths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> REWRITTEN
> 
> Ranboo and Worldbuild supremacy ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh and, if you want to know what happened before an unrewritten chapter, you can just pop a comment to ask me! I remember the plot pretty clearly and I have it archived in a Google Doc.

Honestly, Ranboo didn’t know what he expected. He certainly didn’t expect to feel the ripples of balance shift in terms of magic and nearly falling off the wooden pathways of L’Manberg, gaining weird looks. The others dismissed it as just him being strange, or that being part of Enderman nature that they know so little of. One advantage of being new to the SMP and of a mysterious species, nobody questions your actions and brushes it off.

Endermen weren’t supposed to be so attuned towards the rhythms and waves of the magic churning both beneath and above the easily accessed parts of the Overworld. It wasn’t  _ his  _ fault that he was born a Ghast Hybrid, then some stupid shit happened and he got infected with the infamous Ender Virus, and is now some sort of Enderman-Ghast Hybrid. It explained his strange appearance, black and white, split down the middle.

He learned that the Ender Virus shouldn’t have reached and infected other pre-existing Hybrids, but then again, regular humans aren’t supposed to have Hybrid Children, and would you look at that! Glitched Hybrids exist! Ranboo guessed he’s some sort of Defect. His Ender magic won over his old Ghast magic. He did miss having the ability to send fireballs at unsuspecting humans crossing a bridge, or the gentle manipulation of emotion that came from his subconscious that he couldn’t quite harness properly. But hey, he can teleport and has a badass tail, it’s not all that bad.

That, and added to the fact that he spent a lot of time in the End being adopted as one of their own despite his blood not fully being Ender, made him sensitive to magical waves. He could normally stand the very minor changes, like when a new Hybrid was born, or when the Ender Virus claimed another victim, or when some stubborn spirit stayed as a ghost, or a new Overworld spirit/hybrid being born from some guy fucking a shapeshifter in disguise of being a salmon. Y’now, the normal stuff.

Major changes in the waves though, often come from historical level of events. When a very important and powerful Hybrid died, for one. Or when a very important and powerful Hybrid was born. These two were the minor ones of the major changes in Magical Waves. Some come from divine intervention, as Lyza, the Ender Queen, had phrased it. Some come from ties being cut or mended. The possibilities were endless, but they all forebode that major change to the world as they know it was coming.

Then another one of those shifts hit the poor guy. Ranboo nearly screamed into his fist at the nausea and frustration the feeling brought. His vision swam and he threw open the door to the nearest house and puked into the closest thing to a bin he could find. The vile taste in his mouth did not feel any better knowing that they brought news of something huge, and most likely horrible.

Hands rubbed his back, easing the boy’s nausea. “It’s okay, just let it all out. Nothing’s in that barrel anyway.”

Wait, fuck. Did he puke into a barrel instead of a bin? Ohh shit, he’ll worry about it later.

A piece of cloth was pressed into the Ender Hybrid’s hand when he indicated that he was done puking his breakfast out. Wiping away the vomit on his lips and tossing the now ruined piece of cloth into the barrel he puked in, he looked at the resident of the house he took refuge in. He relaxed the moment he recognized the green and white bucket hat.

“Oh thank Notch that I ran into your house, Phil. And not some random person who has no idea what’s going on,” Ranboo’s shoulder was slumped and his senses slowly returning back into the materialistic realm and not Magic Waves on another plane of existence entirely.

“No problem mate,” Phil chuckled, “How serious was it this time?”

“It’s two in a row this time! I can deal with the first one, it’s not as bad. Then the second one hit me like a truck and I just had to let it out,” Ranboo complained, then sombered up (At least for a bit), “The second one was really bad, Phil. It was- It was really bad.”

Phil frowned, concerned, both for the Ender-Hybrid in front of him and the fate of the world that he resides in. Things were pretty stable for a century or two, with only four of the Major Changes in the waves that Ranboo had felt. And those weren’t bad enough for the boy to puke his guts out like he just did.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Phil reassured him, “Worst come to worst we have to call on Mum or something.” Ranboo laughed, but it was tense and nervous. He fixed up his suit and stuffed his hands in his pant pockets.

“Well uh, sorry to disturb your relatively peaceful day,” Ranboo cleared his throat, which was feeling a little dry and instantly brought up bad tastes back into his mouth that nearly made him choke. Phil chuckled a bit before handing him a glass of water, which he gladly gulped down to wash away the taste.

“Um, bye!” He bid the older man goodbye and shuffled out quickly, begging that nothing major happens for the rest of the day so he won’t have a repeat of what just happened.

\---

There once were legends of a Hybrid, who once ruled over the Nether with an iron fist. The legends all have varying descriptions of the Hybrid, even of  _ what  _ Hybrid the legendary figure was. However, they all agreed on one thing: The Hybrid had red hair and such skilled control over the Netherian Elements of Fire and Magma that no other Hybrid to come after the figure.

The names for the Hybrid differed from legend to legend. Most called them Nether, claiming they were the one who sculpted the Nether. Some even argued that the Hybrid was no Hybrid at all, but some otherworldly god. The few ancient beings still alive today only referred to the Hybrid as the realm they ruled over with Tyranny, the realm that the Hybrid stole. 

The legends all agreed that the Nether’s residents suffered under the Hybrid’s rule. Details of the suffering were mostly made up, some blown out of proportions and some blown way under. Nevertheless, practically nobody enjoyed the Hybrid’s rule.

It wasn’t until a long while for the natural Guardians of the world, originating from the salty seas, a race called Brines, to catch wind of the tyranny and oppressive rulership of the Hybrid. It was here that some legends theorize that the Hybrid had some Brine blood within them, hence giving him the ability to strike down quite a few of the Brine who stood up against them.

It wasn’t until a young but powerful Brine at the time who went by Herobrine finally struck down the Hybrid. The stories of this incident fell out of loop with time, residing only within books of bedtime stories for the Netherian children. Very few records of this incident depicted the truth of where the Hybrid ended up.

He wasn’t killed, merely defeated. Sealed within a structure much like the one he first emerged from. A red egg with parasitic vines stretching out from its exterior, with strange abilities to suck the life and certain colors out of things it touched.

It was supposed to be sealed away in the Nether, but it has been around a million years since the day the Hybrid was sealed. With Herobrine long since caring for his duties, the seal had weakened. To the point of escape, driven by grudges remained fresh since the day it was sworn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Double update at Christmas 11pm (For me anyways). Anyway, take this as a Christmas Gift from me! Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a wonderful New Year to all of you!


	3. You Look Strangely Familiar

Dream left behind a quick note before getting in his Nether Portal, flying a good distance out before landing in another Nether Portal he had hidden somewhere under the Netherrack that leads to an Overworld Portal Hall, which conveniently leads back home to the Withers. It had taken a while to build, but it was worth it, with the secrecy and decoy portals that lead nowhere he had placed.

He had taken off his mask and hung it by his belt. He still wore his green hoodie and black pants. Nobody from the human side of his life should recognize him. He had made sure they only ever saw his mask.

“I’m glad you decided to show up,” A familiar man showed up, with black hair and grey eyes, the same ones Dream bore. Black markings wrapped around his face, much like Dream. The only difference between the two is that the man looked to be in his late thirties, with two wither skulls floating beside him, and the hair color. Dream had dirty blonde hair and no wither skulls, and was physically twenty. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Dream retorted, “I hope they make this quick.”

“You’re still grumpy about your break I see,” His Father chuckled, “Nevertheless, please gather yourself during the meeting. I don’t think you’d like the Blazes figuring out your undercover identity.”

“That would be a  _ nightmare _ ,” Dream let himself laugh a little, “They have four hybrids huh? I’m fairly certain the Blaze King won’t let his wife fight. I’m not sure what type of control he has over the Prince, though, or why he’d come back.”

His father shrugged, “You plan to wing it when we get to it? With minimum planning?”

“We barely know anything. That is the right course of action,” Dream reasoned. His Father nodded, then checked the time on a specially modified clock made specifically for Nether inhabitants.

“Should be around time we set out,” He threw out, “Please get dressed, green isn’t a color we Withers normally choose on formal occasions.” Dream made a huff of annoyance. Green is a perfectly fine color.

\---

Dream thought he was prepared to deal with business on his Nether side of things. Oh he was so  _ so  _ wrong. It had just occurred to him that he had never actually seen the missing Nether Prince. Sure, he had seen the actual Crowned Heir, and they did show up. 

There was the Blaze King. With tanned skin, golden hair, flaming orange eyes and a strange orange crown on his head. The crown had a red gem which was glowing brightly with strange Standard Galactic glyphs etched into the side. He was wearing a yellow cape, black shirt and pants. Like any other Blaze Hybrid present.

The Crowned Blaze Heir was similar, with short golden hair, light skin, and the same orange eyes that ran through their family. They, unlike their family, did not wear a crown. It was strange, those crowns. Dream was very sure the royal crowns of the Blazes were gold, not orange, and without gems.

When he scanned the crowd and his gaze fell onto the Prince, he choked on his own spit. A sixteen year old with bright, blonde hair, blank orange eyes…… The same orange crown. He looked so different than he had last seen the boy. Last time, the boy had bright blue eyes which were wide with hurt and  _ emotion.  _ Last time, the boy was wearing a blue uniform, not this…... attire of a bright yellow cloak with a red crest, black shirt with orange straps, black pants and black boots. Last time, the boy did not have blaze rods hovering around him.

“ _ Tommy?! _ ” Dream choked out. He had been there to watch both Tubbo and Wilbur crumble at the news. Everyone had assumed the boy had died. And yet there he was. A Blaze Hybrid.  _ No, not any Blaze Hybrid. The Prince of the Blazes.  _ Why in Minecraftia did he go back? If Tubbo had found him, and came back distraught. Did Tubbo know that Tommy was a Hybrid? Did the Election break him that bad? What did Tommy tell Tubbo to have him breakdown like that?

He watched as emotion poured back into the boy’s eyes. Confusion, recognition, shock and ending in desperation before he was sucked back into whatever emotionless state he was in.

“Dream?” Tommy had managed to force out, eyes showing emotion and watering with effort before he was snapped back into whatever trance he was in. Right, Tommy had never seen Dream without the mask on. He probably recognized him by his voice.

Dream felt his Father’s gaze turn on him, and the Blaze King glaring at the teen that was Dream’s friend. Then his Father made a noise of disapproval.

“Really? The Twin Crowns of Blakin: Control and Pain. I’m guessing you’re using Control right now, and the Prince is under Pain’s effects?” His Father shook his head in disapproval, “Let me guess, you’ve been using the Twin Crowns on the boy since he was young. Maybe he displayed interest and affection towards humans? Maybe he paid too much attention to your wife? Maybe he was too loud and rebellious? And the world wondered why he ran away. I now wonder why he came back.”

The Twin Crowns of Blakin rang a bell in Dream’s head. He remembered as a child, he had heard legends of different Legendary Artifacts from the Ancient Nether. The Twin Crowns of Blakin were one of them. One Crown, Control, was used to control the wearer of the second Crown, Pain. The Crowns were real then. And Tommy is under Pain’s effects.

Do Pain block off mental reaches?

There was a reason the Withers did not need a second royal, and that Dream was enough. You see, second powers were rare, but not impossible. Take Dream as an example. He displayed your standard Wither abilities, but there was also a second profile. Psychic? Dream never quite got the hang of the telekinesis part of being Psychic, it was like that ability was locked away. It did contribute quite a lot to his Magical Potential, though.

He decided to reach out. His mind slipped through the Crown’s defense. It wasn’t designed to block mental reaches, as he suspected. It was designed to trap a mind, if it blocked mental reaches, Control would have considerably less hold over Pain’s victim.

Every person’s mind space is different, but those who are forced to take a backseat generally share the same landscape. Their mind trapped in a room with a large screen which was their vision. Dream decided to delve deeper into Tommy’s mind and give himself a form, after seeing how bad the boy was dealing inside.

_ “Tommy?” Dream’s mind form stepped forward. He watched as Tommy’s mind form turn towards him. He looked horrible. He was still in Blaze Hybrid form, but he was wearing his red and white shirt, beige pants and white shoes. He didn’t have a crown on him. Dream looked like he did during the times of the SMP, only the mask was off to show his real face this time. _

_ “It- How did you get in here?” Tommy sniffed. There were small lava pools on the floor, indicating that the boy had been crying. It was all in his mind, of course, but it didn’t make them any less real. _

_ “I have a secondary profile. Psychic,” Dream explained, he winced, “It’s really you out there huh. The lost Blaze Prince. Why did you come back?” _

_ “I fucked up okay?!” Tommy snapped, fists shaking as memories seemed to consume the boy. The screen on the room changed into the scenes that were running itself through Tommy’s mind. Dream looked away, seeing memories that aren’t yours is a serious invasion of privacy, but it didn’t stop the sounds from drifting into his ear _

_ “Nobody really betrayed you,” Dream said softly, “Tubbo didn’t betray you. He suffered a massive breakdown when he came back. He screamed at Schlatt’s face. He’s with Wilbur now. Wilbur felt really horrible after trapping you under the pistons that time, from what I heard from Eret. Wilbur thought you were dead, everyone saw him crumble after he learned the news. Everyone thought you were dead. He brought Techno onto the server. Niki is very outspoken against Schlatt. Everything was really quiet and nothing was really happening in the SMP. I’m pretty sure they won’t admit it, but everyone missed you.  _ _ I _ _ missed you. If you breathe a word of that to anyone else you will actually be dead.” _

_ Tommy let out a small broken laugh, that laced with a small bit of hope, “They actually? They actually-” He was shaking. Dream suddenly didn’t see the 16-year old he had made a friendship with at his SMP. He saw a terrified child who thought everyone he had known had betrayed him, and that his abusive Father might be right all along about the people he adored so much. _

_ Tommy suddenly froze and turned to the screen, “Oh FUCK I think he noticed you were spacing out.” Dream turned towards the screen, and saw that the Blaze King and his Father were respectively giving him weird looks.  _

_ “I- Tommy do you need help getting out of here?” Dream asked in the brief moments before he had to withdraw. _

_ “Please,” Tommy’s voice broke. Dream threw himself out of Tommy’s mindscape and  _ back into his own body, feeling a little overwhelmed as the blood rushed into his head. He bit back the urge to groan and steady himself. He wasn’t sure how the Blaze King would deal with knowing Tommy spoke to him. Torture is what the current Blaze King was infamous for, after a particularly nasty war they once had with the Ghasts at one point.

The meeting ended shortly after, and his Father confronted him of the event.

“Did you know the Prince prior to his return?” His Father got straight to the point. Dream nodded.

“I didn’t know he was a Hybrid. I thought he was human like everyone else,” He admitted, “He disappeared a while back. Everyone thought he was dead.”

“You were in his mind?” His Father prompted. Dream nodded again, silence falling upon the duo.

“Well we are not about to start another war with them,” His Father broke the silence, “But he found some Human structures where he was aiming to expand. He wanted assistance, though I doubt he really needed us. The coordinates he gave me sounds suspiciously close to the location you said you were going to stay for the most part during your break. You might want to check that out.”

Dream felt his blood chill. How crazy did the Blaze King have to be to get near his portal? His portal near DreamSMP?

\---

When he arrived with his family for the meeting, he didn’t know what he expected of the Withers. He had ran away long before he was old enough to be tangled in politics like this. Something about the Wither Prince seemed instinctively familiar, but Tommy couldn’t place what. He had never even seen that man before.

When the Wither Prince’s eyes seem to fly open wide at the sight of Tommy, he was confused to say the least.

“Tommy?!”

What did the Wither Prince just call him? Nobody in the Nether calls him Tommy. Just Tomathy, or Prince, or your Highness, or if he was talking to his sibling, Toms. Only people from his human life called him Tommy. Why did the Wither Prince’s sound so familiar?

Tommy quickly placed the voice among the people he knew. No wonder he didn’t recognize the Prince. He never showed his face, most likely to hide the wither marks at the side of his face.

“Dream?” He managed to break through, the hope providing fuel to his actions and desperation as motive. The moment was quickly taken away as the Crown took control again, forcing him back in his own little mental prison. He felt tears drip down his face. He was so close. So so close to freedom. He just had to let Dream know he needed it.

He sat there in a fetal position as someone began taking form. That was weird. He immediately shot up, and found Dream invading his mind space, not that he really minded. He was just so  _ lonely. _

“Tommy?” Dream’s mind form stepped forward. Tommy studied the Dream’s appearance. He looked like he did during the times of DreamSMP, only the mask was off to show his real face this time.

“It- How did you get in here?” Tommy sniffed. His tears had dried just moments prior, but small lava pools on the ground gave him away.

“I have a secondary profile. Psychic,” Dream explained, he winced, “It’s really you out there huh. The lost Blaze Prince. Why did you come back?”

“I fucked up okay?!” Tommy snapped, fists shaking as memories seemed to consume the boy. The screen on the room changed into the scenes as they flitted across his mind.

_ “POGCHAMP!” _

_ “I…… Dream, I’m giving you both Cat and Mellohi, for L’Manberg’s independence." _

_ “Swag 2020 won the election, congratulations Mr. President.” _

_ “-is to revoke the citizenship of Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit!” _

_ Betrayers. _

_ “You’re here to kill me, aren’t you?” _

_ “What? NO!” _

_ Liars. _

_ “Humans are a lot nicer than you are, Mom said so.” _

_ “Ha, they might look like that at first. They let you build up things you care about with them. They act nice around you. They make sure you get attached. Then they will take them all away. It will hurt so much worse than just being a piece of shit from the start. Your Mother was lucky she was recalled and taken back before that happened.” _

_ Dad was right, was he? _

“Nobody really betrayed you,” Dream said softly, Tommy forgot the man was Psychic and had full access to the screen for a moment. “Tubbo didn’t betray you. He suffered a massive breakdown when he came back. He screamed at Schlatt’s face. He’s with Wilbur now. Wilbur felt really horrible after trapping you under the pistons that time, from what I heard from Eret. Wilbur thought you were dead, everyone saw him crumble after he learned the news. Everyone thought you were dead. He brought Techno onto the server. Niki is very outspoken against Schlatt. Everything was really quiet and nothing was really happening in the SMP. I’m pretty sure they won’t admit it, but everyone missed you.  _ I  _ missed you. If you breathe a word of that to anyone else you will actually be dead.”

Tommy let out a small broken laugh, that laced with a small bit of hope, “They actually? They actually-” He was shaking. Was Dream lying? Did- Did they actually miss him? Did they actually care enough to- Did they want him back, after all his screw ups?

Sudden movement out of the corner of the screen made Tommy freeze up and direct his attention towards it.

“Oh FUCK I think he noticed you were spacing out.” Dream turned towards the screen.

“I- Tommy do you need help getting out of here?” Dream asked in the brief moments before he was forced to withdraw. Could Dream keep his word?

“Please,” Tommy’s voice broke. “Please help me.” He added in a small voice after Dream’s form faded away.

\---

His head hurt. His entire body hurt. He paid for that little stunt with the crown. His Father suspected Dream’s Psychic abilities for a while. When Tommy refused to tell him what words were exchanged, he was conducted to the oh so familiar torture function of his half of the two crowns.

His Father kept hinting at something that had to do with humans and Tommy himself. He had no idea what that meant. He didn’t want it to come to pass.

_ Please hurry up. Please. _


	4. I Told You That You'd Come Back Crying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I told you that you'd come back crying"

Tommy was noticed the moment he was within sight of the Blaze Citadel walls. There were not that many hybrids on the loose, and among them, even fewer Blazes. Anybody who had heard the tale about how the young nine-year old Prince fled the citadel could make the connection that the sixteen-year old Blaze Hybrid in front is the same Prince. It’s just a little harder to accept that fact.

Tommy wasn’t sure if he was lucky he didn’t have to deal with the guards since his Dad was out front, or unlucky because his Dad was out front.

“What did I tell you?” His Dad grinned as he clapped Tommy’s shoulder rather painfully, his grip tight and nails digging into his shirt. Tommy winced.

“What did I tell you? That you’d come crying back home? I guess I’m proven wrong, you’re not crying,” His Dad laughed. It was loud. It made Tommy’s ears hurt. He had forgotten that about his Dad. He couldn’t say he particularly missed this place, but where else could he go?

“Where’s Mom?” Tommy asked quietly, putting pause to his Dad’s booming laughter.

“Oh she’s alive,” His Dad waved it off dismissively, “But she’s definitely not taking off that crown off your head anytime soon. You  _ are  _ keeping that crown on, whether you like it or not.” Tommy tensed. He hated that crown. It strips away his free will by giving his Dad free access to control his actions, it gives his Dad the ability to torture him anytime he wants, and it can only be removed by people who has a larger magical potential than he does, which few exists.

“You have to understand I can’t have you running off. We are very close to starting another war with the Withers,” His Dad added on smoothly. Tommy knew that’s at the very least part bullshit, his Dad was just a control freak.

“Again?” He flinched backwards at the glare his Dad shot at him.

“You have to know that Withers often gets in the way of expansion,” His Dad attempted to pull the kind, patient Father act. Tommy saw through that, but decided against saying anything. He bit back comments that threatened to force its way out.  _ You’re not TommyInnit anymore. You’re back to being Prince Tomathy. And you have nobody but yourself to blame. _

\---

The crown’s metal was cold despite being in the Nether. A single red gem embedded in the middle of some sort of unknown orange-colored metal that it was made out of. Tommy knew the gem would glow if it was in effect, and he was thankful his Dad can’t make it work 24/7.

His princely attire did not fit him. With a black shirt, orange straps, black pants and black boots coupled with a yellow cloak which had a red pin. He hated it. He liked his old red and white shirt better. Heck, he’d even prefer his L’Manberg uniform, even if it’s a pain to put on sometimes.

He expected punishment of sorts, maybe several pain spikes using the crown, but none came yet. It made him suspicious. It also allowed him a small hope that his Dad had improved since he had ran away a long time ago.

Sure, it was a selfish move, running away like that, but he hadn’t exactly doomed their bloodline. He very distinctly remembered that he had a sibling named Mothy who was two or three years younger than him, and also happened to be much better at their job than Tommy was. He just didn’t understand the necessity of being forced to stay behind. Sure, humans are pretty racist against Hybrids and would hunt them down for their mob parts since they normally work better than regular mob parts, but Tommy had a human form he’s perfectly comfortable staying in. What’s the point of keeping him here?

Being left alone gave Tommy a lot of free time, which let him realize how incredibly stupid that decision was. Yes, most everyone on the DreamSMP had practically turned their back on him, but…… What about Wilbur? And Techno and Phil and all his other friends not on the SMP? They hadn’t betrayed him…… yet. But still…… Wilbur must’ve been practically all alone without any allies.

Then the relatively enclosed space of his room brought back rather unpleasant memories concerning the President.

_ “Oh fuck oh fuck. WILBUR HELP!” Tommy had screamed for him, having placed the redstone block in the wrong place, causing the pistons to trap him. His breathing picked up as he tried to force himself out and failed horribly. He heard Wilbur approach and…… Was that laughter? _

_ “No please Wilbur I know I screwed up Wilbur please I’m claustrophobic-” Tommy begged, not that he could show it much physically anyway, “Wilbur please I have severe claustrophobia Wilbur I’m not joking please Wilbur please-” Laughter. More laughter. Tommy was reminded of the time his Dad locked him in a closet after he and Mothy had a bit of fun, as children  _ _ should _ _. He was reminded of the times he was locked in enclosed spaces as a punishment and it was always so dark and so terrifying and the feeling of something pressing up hard against your chest- _

_ He remembered what happened next. Wilbur had to take care of something and left before releasing Tommy. When he was finally released, he was panicked and so close to a breakdown. He felt his chest bruise. Blazes aren’t particularly tough, their main strength being their pyrokinesis.  _

Tommy hugged his knees closer as the memory surfaced. He had tried to push it down for so long. Granted, Wilbur had looked super guilty afterwards when some other sympathetic member of L’Manberg freed him. But still…… He had laughed. Did Wilbur know he was claustrophobic before this? Tommy honestly couldn’t remember.

He did miss his friends…… Especially Techno and Phil, they hadn’t done anything particularly damaging to him yet.

But was he really better off back there? Or was he better off here, in the Nether, with a Dad he had been running from for so long? He honestly couldn’t tell anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew Blaze Prince Tommy! I would post it up here but uh, do anybody know how to convert a jpg file to image URL? Google is actually being unhelpful. Or I'm dumb, that could be it too.
> 
> But seriously help i want to upload it


	5. Save Yourselves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three sections, one is pushing plot, two is backstory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BACKSTORY CHAPTER LET’S GOO

Dream had quickly got back to the SMP, head swimming with thoughts about Tommy in the Nether. That crown with the glowing red gem resting on his head. The boy crying lava tears, trapped in his own mind.

No way could he go and help Tommy alone. He shouldn’t get his people roped in this. Everybody’s tired of waging war against the Blazes. Plus, he had heard rumors about Tommy’s potential when the entire dimension within mob jurisdiction was riled up about the boy’s escape. He didn’t know if it was true, but if it were, it would be very difficult to find someone whose potential outweighs Tommy’s.

Plus, he had no idea how to breach the Blaze Citadel. He might be a Wither and had the ability to Wither some walls, but no doubt there is some protection against the Withering effect placed on their buildings, or else the Citadel would’ve been razed to the ground centuries ago.

But he can’t just leave Tommy to his Father’s grasp for the rest of eternity, could he? A hybrid’s lifespan is very long. It would be a very painful life for the boy if that’s the case.

Manberg probably wouldn’t help. Dream didn’t want to go to them either. The Dream Team SMP is torn over picking sides right now, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to force them to pick Pogtopia’s side by having them help him get Tommy out of there. That leaves Pogtopia.

But oh Wither. Tubbo would know what actually happened, and now that Dream knew the context behind everything, Tubbo’s reaction made sense. Techno and Wilbur probably both thought Tommy was dead. Dream’s not even sure if his own potential overpowered Tommy’s. Why instill this false hope?

He shook his head to clear his cluster of thoughts as he made his way towards the small blocked off entrance of Pogtopia. He hung around, pacing, before clearing his throat.

“Hello? It’s Dream. I…… Have news for you,” He hoped someone was inside so he didn’t look like an idiot, “It’s... … It’s about Tommy.” Silence, then the dirt blocks moved, revealing a Wilbur eying him with suspicion.

“Can I come in?” He asked, politely. He didn’t want to give the former-president any excuse to just kill him where he stood. He watched as Wilbur pondered his request, then slowly letting him in. Dream exhaled, that’s one obstacle gone.

“Who- Dream?” Tubbo looked up at the masked man, who felt uncomfortable under his gaze. The atmosphere around these people were no longer cheery and laid back, like before. It was somber and serious. Techno was leaning on the wall, fiddling with what seemed to be a potato.

“Uh… Yes,” He shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, “I… Well, I actually think you know this, Tubbo, but uh…… Tommy’s alive.” Wilbur’s eyes snapped up and Techno looked up, Tubbo just looked defeated. Yep, Tubbo definitely knew.

“H-How do you know? Where is he?” Wilbur demanded. Dream winced.

“He’s…… In a tough spot right now,” Dream considered his words carefully, “He’s currently trapped in the Nether by his abusive Father with the help of an ancient Nether Artifact.” That did not sound good at all.

“Come again?” Techno questioned, “To be fair, Dream. These guys did fight an entire war against you.” Dream sighed.

“It- Oh screw this, you’re going to know if you go through with this anyway,” Dream grumbled, “Tommy’s a Blaze Hybrid who had disappeared from the Nether around eight years ago. I don’t know much about this, but I can infer that the Election made him feel so low that he ran back home to the abusive asshole he ran away from as a kid. Now he’s stuck there and apparently wants out.”

“And you know this because……?” Techno raised an eyebrow. Dream froze and sighed, slowly taking off his mask, revealing the marks of the Wither on his face and his eyes, which were grey, contrary to the public belief that it’s green.

“I was there,” Dream stated, “Look, I’m not sure how much you know about magic, but have you ever heard of Second Profiles and Psychics? I’m both, and it helps a lot when you recognize someone but they’re being mind controlled at the moment.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Tubbo squeezed his eyes shut, “Tommy ran away from me when I found him. He said he’s not coming back. He… He thought I was going to kill him and that we all betrayed him and- He sounded so serious and dead set on that- I thought… I thought it might’ve been better if everyone just thought he died or something.” A small pause. “I’m sorry……”

\---

_ There once was a little boy, with tanned skin and golden hair. He had bright orange eyes akin to flame and blaze rods constantly hovering near him. He was reckless, he was loud, he was annoying to some but endearing to them nonetheless, and he was curious about the species known as Humans, which were hybrids without their strange features. Completely ordinary. _

_ There once was a little boy who trusted a human man. The human man had long brown hair he tied back in a ponytail. That man was like a second father to the little boy. That man taught the little boy to read the human glyphs native to that part of the land. That man read human stories to the little boy. That man showed the little boy human customs. That man showed the little boy kindness. _

_ Then came a young girl. She had long dark hair, fair skin and eyes that glowed much like faint magma. She came in chains clasped around her limbs. The little boy was a little more grown up now, and befriended the girl, to learn that she was his kin. He had set the girl free out of pity, but the human man who took him in did not enjoy it. _

_ It was as if a switch was flipped. The human man no longer treated the little boy like a son. The human man no longer saw the good in the boy. Only troublemakers who release the people he was supposed to capture and sell. The human man turned harsh. The human man turned violent. The little boy hurt. Why did the human man he adored so much become so different? What happened? What did he do wrong? _

_ Slowly, the little boy grew and learned how to fight. The little boy learned the ways of the blade from watching the human man in the dark. The little boy was no longer loud or endearing in the way he once was. The little boy no longer had a shred of mercy for the race he once adored so much. The little boy was no longer a little boy, but a teen angry at mankind. For they lie. They put on fake faces to trick hybrids like him. And other hybrids would fall prey to this treacherous species if he did not do anything. _

_ He fled his human captor’s home at night. He fled back to his own home. When he grew to be a man, assumed the crown and took a queen, he had a son who looked like him. A son who was a mirror to the man who was betrayed by the human he once loved like a father. _

_ The son was reckless and rebellious. He did not heed to his father’s warnings and words, and kept venturing out of the Citadel to interact with the humans. The son reminded the man of his younger self. The Man turned harsh like the human who took him in. When that did not deter the fire in his son’s heart, he turned to magic. He turned to the Twin Crowns. _

_ His son hated him for that. His son hated restriction. The Man didn’t mind. He loved his son. And he would not allow such an evil race to claim him too. And he would resort to the same methods his human captor had used on him, if need shall come to pass. _

\---

He couldn’t save himself.

\---

_ There once was a boy born to a pair of glitchy parents. The boy was at least part swine. The village sage called him cursed. The village shunned the boy. The village hated the boy. The boy was cursed with loneliness the moment his parents left and never returned. The boy was cursed with violence and skill since the moment his gaze drifted over to a blade. _

_ The boy first tasted blood when he had been stranded outside after dark to fend for himself. The villagers would like him better dead. The boy first tasted blood when he had snapped a zombie’s neck at the age of 7. The boy first tasted blood when he was left to die by those who were supposed to embrace him. Once the boy first tasted blood, there was no turning back. _

_ The boy first started seeking blood several months after he tasted it. He had stolen a sword and killed several livestock, just for the sake of satisfying an ever growing bloodlust. The boy was nine when he was caught killing more livestock. The boy was nine when an angry herder threatened to kill him. The boy was nine when he killed a man more than thrice his age. The boy was nine when he first tasted human blood. The boy was nine when he ran away to satisfy himself and to escape the law. _

_ The boy was eleven when he was known for his killing. The boy was eleven when his name was posted on posters. The boy was eleven when he wiped out an entire forest of its animals and monsters. The boy was eleven when he lost control and succumbed to his bloodlust. _

_ The boy was thirteen when he returned home with a flint and steel. The boy was experiencing the thirteenth winter of his life when he burned down his old home to feel warm. The boy was thirteen when he discovered arson. A child not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth, after all. _

_ The boy was fifteen when he shed his old name and donned a new one. The boy was fifteen when a lone explorer found him over a freshly slain corpse of a cow. The boy was fifteen when he finally showed self control for a man who gave off a comforting aura. The boy was fifteen when he found himself a family. The boy was fifteen when he had a new start. The boy was fifteen when he finally experienced love again. _

\---

The boy barely managed to save himself.

So when he very nearly lost it again.

He only said one thing:

“Save yourselves”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mhm, even though I didn't name who those two backstories are for, did ya guess them?


	6. Loose Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, how would you guys like it if I put a bit of attention into the OCs? Like having them play a bit more major role than just as background. For example I mentioned Mothy, the Blaze Crowned Heir, several times in past chapters. It kinda felt wrong not to write some blood sibling interaction between Mothy and Tommy, but I’ve seen how OC-Phobic a fandom could go in some fanfictions. And it's not the end of the world if Mothy gets no screen time, I have a backup plan but I like the Mothy plan better.
> 
> So, should I?

Eret was mining for quartz and trying to get some Blaze Powder to power the brewing stands for more potions. It was always useful to keep several potions of healing and healing on your person. He hated going on these trips, but Niki was busy with Pogtopia business and tax, Fundy can’t disappear too often or he’d raise suspicion. Naturally, he was the only one available for this time’s Nether supply run.

He avoided hurting any blazes he came across in the fortress. The voices he heard from those guys made him feel horrible every time he had to kill one. This time, however, he was curious.

_ “You heard about the invasion?” _

_ “Of course. Who do you think I am? I can finally get reassigned from this forsaken fortress and hang out back in the Citadel. Stupid shit this stuff is, I have a wife and kids.” _

_ “I know for a fact your wife divorced you three years ago and the two of you never had kids.” _

_ “Fuck you too, Flare!” _

Eret glanced around the corner to find two Blazes engaged in a deep conversation. What invasion exactly……? Wither skeletons should be in fortresses too, would they know anything?

He ducked around the corner not to aggravate the Blazes, and into where he knew there were bound to be several Wither Skeletons. He skidded to a stop before he bumped into one, who raised its stone sword, preparing for it to arc down.

_ “Wait!”  _ Eret hissed, the sound emitting from his throat was not human, but the meaning was the same. The Wither Skeleton hesitated, and Eret took this chance and tilted his sunglasses down. The Wither Skeleton seemed to catch it, and sheathed its sword.

_ “Apologies. I was not aware,”  _ The Wither Skeleton signed, lacking the ability to talk due to the lack of vocal cords. They can hear people though, Eret was confused how the world works at times.

_ “The Blazes back there was talking about some sort of invasion. What is it?”  _ Eret questioned in the same inhuman language he had commanded the Wither Skeleton to stop earlier.

_ “I don’t know much, but it seems the Blaze King had found a human SMP nearby and was looking to invade it. I believe it got in the way of expansion?”  _ The Wither Skeleton shrugged,  _ “I only know as much as I could gather from gossip and orders delivered from my own King.” _

_ “A human SMP nearby huh?”  _ Eret mused. That sounded strangely like DreamSMP. In fact, it almost certainly was DreamSMP. Eret knew how far the SMP’s borders reach, there shouldn’t be another SMP near enough to be confused with.

_ “What were the orders given to you?”  _ Eret asked, the Wither Skeleton shuffled uncomfortably.

_ “I… Am not sure I am authorized to tell. Even if you are……”  _ The Wither Skeleton trailed off,  _ “Apologies.” _

_ “Ah, it’s understandable,”  _ Eret reassured the mob,  _ “Thank you for your help.”  _ The Wither Skeleton nodded and tried for a salute before walking away. Eret clenched his fists. He was certain the Blaze King had his eye on their plot of land for a while now, that man was ambitious and respected no boundaries. But why strike now? What changed?

Was it possible the Blaze King learned about the Election and the Manberg vs Pogtopia war? No, he’s not the type of person to plant spies from what Eret had heard. The Blaze King was mostly upright with things. What changed?

\---

Techno was in the Nether when he felt his sword arm tingle and his tongue felt dry. His pink hair didn’t stand out as much as it would if he was in the Overworld, but the golden crown on his head attracted some attention from nearby Piglins. He ignored them.

He was currently farming for Netherite, not all of them had full Netherite as of right now. Considering he was half Piglin and was the most adept at combat among the Pogtopians, he was naturally sent to do the job. Dream didn’t trust the group to be able to handle the Blazes without Netherite gear.

That tingle in his sword arm kept growing until it physically annoyed the half-Piglin. His pig-like ears twitched with annoyance. He wanted to hack at something, or some _ one.  _ There was a sudden want to see his sword stained with red and see something bleed on it as they slowly go limp-

Techno shook those thoughts out of his head. It sounded horribly similar to what ran through his mind when he had snapped as a kid, or when he had snapped before the SMP business but was already living with Phil, Wilbur and Tommy. Both times had ended with some sort of bloodshed. Both times had ended with a lot of lives gone, most of them by his own hand.

Light poured into his stripmine as he broke open a bit of netherrack. Light from the glowstone and lava streamed in and Techno emerged from the small tunnel he had cooped himself in. He found himself stumbling into a forest made of red mushrooms resembling trees, with red grass-like blocks as the ground grew from netherrack. Several Piglins shot curious looks at him, most children but there was an adult supervising them. Techno flattened his pig-like ears, feeling self conscious under the stares.

Yes, he’s a glitched hybrid. Yes, he had human biological parents who should not have given birth to a Piglin Hybrid. In fact, Piglin Hybrids should not even exist. Techno suspected he’s not just a Piglin Hybrid, but was a Piglin Brute Hybrid, but those suspicions were never really confirmed as there were not many physical traits that separate a Piglin Brute from a regular Piglin.

Techno wasn’t wearing gold, he hoped his Hybrid features were enough to calm the Piglins down. Or not, it could feed his growing hunger for killing that he feels festering deep in his mind which he tried to ignore.

Out of the corner of Techno’s eye, he spotted a fortress. There could be some loot in there, maybe he could gather some blaze powder or netherwart for potion brewing. The blaze powder to power the brewing stand, and netherwart was needed for practically every potion there are.

A Wither Skeleton attempted to charge him. A simple swipe through the ribs shattered its bones and did the trick. The clatter of bones falling to the ground sounded like music. The skulls could be useful, Techno could drop a couple Withers as a last resort or something. He heard that crushing or cremating a Wither Skeleton’s bones create ash either way, and somehow putting them within the forging of a sword gives the sword a Wither effect. They could probably make use of that too.

Techno heard the sound of another Wither Skeleton, and he turned, locking gazes. It looked fearful of the Piglin Hybrid looting the corpse of its colleague, and was stepping backwards, as if trying to escape and point out that it was harmless and would leave him alone. Techno’s lips curled into a smile as he dashed forward, slamming the flat of his blade into the Wither Skeleton, causing it to topple over and shatter. A laugh tore itself from his lips as he felt some sort of hole inside his mind be filled up, if only a little.

_ A laugh could be heard for tens of blocks around. A laughter belonging to a boy. If one would approach the source, they’d find a boy with clothing in terrible condition. He held a blade dripping with bright red blood, vivid red eyes showing a glint of madness and desire that could unsettle all who looked upon it. The boy’s pink hair was dripping with blood, too. A carcass of a Zoglin nearly triple the boy’s size laid dead on the ground. _

_ There were also other corpses. Of Piglins and whatever beast dared to approach this child. He threw back his head and laughed as satisfaction seeped into a hole within his heart. He clutched his stomach and laughed at the horrified hunter staring at the sight. He laughed at the hunter who could barely believe that a boy his age could cause so much bloodshed single-handedly.  _

_ A fine film of blood flung themselves off his sword when he dashed towards the hunter frantically trying to escape, and covered it with a fresh layer of red, the hole filling up more whilst the contents of another hole were slowly draining away. One of bloodlust, the other of humanity.  _

The emptiness and satisfaction Techno felt for killing these Wither Skeletons were terrifyingly close to how the boy felt when he had started that massacre. It began with a Zoglin daring to attack him with several other Ziglins, underestimating their Hybrid counterpart. The satisfaction felt eerily close to when he had ended that hunter’s life.

He had put a band-aid over that hole, but the hole was never filled. Band-aids are temporary. Emptiness waiting to be filled is not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zombified Piglins are now called Ziglins in this fic


	7. Hunters and Hybrids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may want to pay attention to the end notes from now on ;)
> 
> also this is kinda a filler cause haha hybrids go brrr

Dream was back in the Nether helping his Father sort out things, mainly letters and paperwork from other Nether Races. Piglins doesn’t write at all, so they’d normally send ambassadors. Dream hated the ambassadors, they paid no attention to rules and often had to be physically restrained from causing unnecessary fights. Their obsession with gold also baffled the Wither Prince, but apparently it’s an ancestral thing.

“Oh  _ fuck _ ,” A sudden hiss came from Dream’s Father, catching Dream’s attention. His Father doesn’t really cuss unless something was seriously off.

“What?” Dream turned. His Father heaved a sigh and clenched his fists.

“Blazes declared war on us,” He waved around a letter, showcasing the Blaze insignia as a seal, “Apparently someone had paid the Piglins for their alliance too. I’m almost certain it’s the Blazes. As you know, the Ghasts have been under Blaze dictatorship for quite some time now. Striders are pacifists, they refuse to fight even if their lives depended on it. Magma Cubes would avoid conflict until it’s literally at their doorstep. We are alone, and unless one of the ancient Brines come to our rescue or some sort of Civil War erupts among our enemy ranks, we are absolutely done for.”

His Father’s eyes were stormy, clouded by the anger and frustration that was currently swimming in his mind. Long black hair falling around his shoulders that were usually well kept were now messy with stray strands sticking out. He seemed paler than usual. His crown didn’t seem to fit at the moment, with its black metal and red gem radiating death and misery. It used to fit with his terrifying aura of command and power, it used to make it seem like he commanded such death and misery, but now it seemed like death and misery commanded  _ him. _

“Are you sure?” Dream took the letter, his Father didn’t object, “It might take a bit of coaxing and quite a bit of gold, but we could try to sway some Piglin tribes. I’ve spent enough time in the Overworld to make friends.”

“Don’t trouble the humans,” His Father spat, “I know for a fact that some of your friends have Hunter lineages. Nobody here would suffer for that.  _ I  _ wouldn’t allow them to assist in this war. You  _ know  _ how much pain the Hunters had personally caused me.”

“Not all of my friends are Hunters,” Dream retorted, annoyed, “I’m pretty sure some of them are Hybrids in disguise. You should know by now that Tommy, the Blaze Prince, was in my SMP. They’re going to help, whether you allow them to or not.”

“They can help, just not on behalf of the Withers,” His Father’s fists were clenched tighter, “I would accept their help only when my ancestors had risen from their graves and commanded me so; I would accept their help only when those who bear the most hatred towards them commanded me so; I would accept their help only when those who had long forsook us returned and commanded me so.”

Dream shivered at the words. Those were the words belonging to an ancient mantra used often by leaders of the Nether Races when they are repulsive about something. It normally wasn’t used unless the leader hated such a notion with an utmost passion.

“You never did tell me what the Hunters did to you,” Dream muttered, hoping to keep it out of his Father’s earshot. He heard it anyway, but chose not to reply.

\---

_ Inter-dimensional Hybrid friendships are rare, and even rarer so are the friendships between the former Wither Prince and the former Ender Prince. A pure chance, their meeting was. They were both frolicking around in the Overworld, back when the Wither’s hatred for the Hunters had not yet budded. Back when the End had more involvement in others’ issues. _

_ Having no other sibling or friend, the Wither Prince threw himself wholly into the Ender Prince’s friendship, which eventually infected the Ender Princess. The three became an inseparable trio and an important piece in the End and Nether truce. Their parents, when they look at their children not as Ruler and Heir, but as Parent and Child, were glad the children had each other. _

_ The friendship lasted a mere century before it was ruined. The End was having a dispute with one of the few large Hybrid cities in the Overworld, and the Withers with their current war with the Blazes. The Wither Prince went to visit his friends to find Hunters. Ender Hybrids were rare, as most stayed within the End. The Ender Prince died in front of the Wither Prince. _

_ The Wither Prince witnessed the Ender Princess undergo a change most will not experience in a lifetime. He witnessed the girl transform from an assassin in the dark, avoiding attention, to a raging inferno of purple flames that engulfed the majority of the Hunters as she made sure they would remember and pay tenfold for the lives they took. _

_ The Wither Prince lost his best friend to the Hunters. The Wither Prince witnessed a breakdown because of the Hunters. Seeds of hatred were sown and blossomed into a dangerous Witherrose within his mind. It did not help that the Ender King at the time fell to mysterious causes that were not disclosed to him shortly after, causing the Ender Princess, now Queen, to stray further from their friendship. He couldn’t blame her. He knew burying herself in work was her way of dealing with grief. But it didn’t hurt less when he realized their relationship has deteriorated so far that they are no longer close friends, but merely rulers of their respective Hybrid races. _

_ The Hunters took the two most important bits of his life from him. The Wither Prince cannot forgive them for that. He doubts he ever will. _

\---

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

“I mean, practically nobody here likes my Dad. We’re all just afraid.”

“Yeah, you’re afraid of him because when he says he’ll do something, he means it. He  _ will.  _ How many times did he shove you into that closet already? How long had he put us Ghasts under tight dictatorship? How many times did he screw with your brother by now?”

“My point exactly! We - well I - need to mess with him. Have you seen the alliances he gathered by now? The Withers have no hope, unless they ask the Enders, but you know the Enders are impartial for most of our conflicts. If I’m correct they’re dealing with their own issues, too. If I don’t do anything, the Withers will be wiped out. We haven’t had a race wipeout since the ancient times.”

“I know…… It’s just- I don’t want to see you hurt again.”

“I’ll be sneaky. I promise. I had eight years of practice after that cretin ran off and left me to deal with our Dad’s shit. And in spite of that total dick move, we kind of need him alive if we have any hope of deflating my Dad’s ego and hopefully get my Mum to handle ruling business until I’m of age.”

“Be careful, okay? If you need anything, I’m happy to help.”

“Actually…… Ghasts use illusion magic, right? Or was it emotional manipulation?”

“A little of both. Sometimes our hybrids have illusion magic, sometimes our hybrids have emotional manipulation. Illusion magic is split into two categories too. One which is similar to emotional manipulation, and creates a false image in someone’s mind, causing them to see things. The second is literally bending light to create a false image. Our emotional manipulation has a limited range, we can only do little nudges, unless you’re a born powerful hybrid.”

“You’re an illusion magic Ghast Hybrid right? Which type are you?”

“The one that toys with the mind. Why?”

“Hm…… Fear, desperation and danger usually unlocks Second Profiles, right? Coupled with the right environments, of course.”

“Yes…..? What are you- Your brother’s potential. You think he has a Second Profile that’s not yet unlocked…...?”

“It’s almost confirmed. It’s unheard of for a Single Profile to have such a vast potential. Plus, he’s been out of the Nether for like eight years. He’s a Nether Hybrid. Chances are, the unlock condition for his Second Profile exists in the Nether.”

“And you want me to cast an illusion to make him so terrified it stimulates an actual near death experience? That’s...... Wow. You’re so evil.”

“And you love me for it anyways~”

“Platonically!”

“Keep telling yourself that ;)”

“By the Brines- I hate you so much sometimes, Mothy.”

“Love you too, Vix.”

\---

“You sure this is a good idea? I mean this sounds awfully like a kidnapping.” 

“This  _ is  _ a kidnapping. I’m not going through the hassle of talking and getting him to agree. The last time we had a proper talk was eight years ago. Neither of us trusts each other. Unfortunately, his potential is larger than mine by a ton so if any of us want to be free we have to work together. That’s not going to be possible if he could get mind controlled anytime. That, and although his potential is so much larger than mine, he can only access a small portion of it. He didn’t even attempt to practice with his magic over the past eight years! I can tell this type of stuff. He’s definitely not accessing more of his magic without practice or traumatic experience. The second one is faster to create.”

“You’d make a terrifying Queen.”

“Ha, glad ya think so. Now, where’s the duffle bag and sleep potion?”

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I see you've stumbled across my notes. My name is Reina, or Dr. Heath. If you knwo me personally, back the fuck off my notes. If you don't, feel free to read though them! I research Hybrids so it could be made common knowledge. :)
> 
> Nether Hybrids are fascinating, each race ahd their own hierarchy systems and powers. Blazes are pyrokinetic. Ghasts focus on manipulation and deception. Piglins are just barbarians. Withers, I suspect, are products of death and misery, be it purposeful or accidental.
> 
> They also all seem to rever a mysterious, extinct race called Brines. I wonder if the Brines have any connection to the popular legend of Herobrine......
> 
> ~Reina Heath


	8. Little Bits of Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shit's starting to get REAL

_ “Why can’t I remember anything?” The young boy tilted his head, purple eyes gleaming and dark wings twitching. A young woman sighed, and sat down next to the boy. She had long black hair, glowing purple eyes, pale skin. The same pair of wings jutted from her back, with flecks of purple to signify her status, and a pair of twisting grey horns from her head. _

_ “Did we teach you this yet?” She turned, “We, the Enders. We get our hybrids by infecting them with a unique virus. I believe it had a proper name once, but now everyone calls it the Ender Virus. It originated from Chorus fruits. That’s why eating too much either turns you to a full Enderman, Enderman Hybrid, or Ender Dragon Hybrid. You’re a Dragon hybrid. Losing your human memories is a side effect from the Virus.” _

_ “W-Why did you guys infect me?” The boy’s purple eyes seemed a little betrayed. _

_ “We didn’t mean to,” The woman ruffled the boy’s blonde hair, “Your Father was a very good explorer. In fact, he was brave enough to venture into the End. Unfortunately, he was trapped due to a malfunction. He had to eat the Chorus fruits to survive. You’re smart, you can guess what happened next.” The boy sat in silence. _

_ “Do you know anything else about my family?” The boy asked. The woman pondered her words. _

_ “Your Mother was a researcher, according to you Father,” She paused, “She researched…… Hybrids. Not all her methods were…… nice. I believe your last name was Heath.” _

\---

Dream returned to Pogtopia to absolute chaos.

“Techno,  _ hand me the damn thing- _ ”

“You’ve been tryin to get it to work for the past thirty minutes. Let the expert do the job.”

“If you let me try one more time-”

“Wilbur, there is a reason Phil gave me the communicator. I quote ‘ _ Techno is the most mature out of all three of you, not that it’s by much _ ’.”

“You were 16 and I was 17 at the time, things have clearly changed since then.”

“It didn’t look like it changed to me.”

Dream rounded the corner to see Techno keeping something rectangular in his hand out of Wilbur’s reach, while the taller man was leaning over the railing trying to get to him, while bickering all the same. Tubbo was trying to keep Wilbur from falling down the railings by leaning too far.

“What’s going on?” Dream spoke. The chaos went on a standstill as all parties involved acknowledged the man coming down the stairs.

“Well Tommy’s gotten himself in deep trouble,” Wilbur explained, “And then we remembered Techno had a communicator linked with Phil’s - our Dad’s - communicator. You know these types of things are expensive so we only had one pair. Well we’ve been trying to get it to work and failing-”

“You mean  _ you  _ have been trying to get it to work. You just stole that thing from me!” Techno protested, “If you had just let the intellectual who had actual experience attempt to boot this communicator up, we would’ve been done a long time ago.”

“Wilbur please back off and don’t fall over,” Tubbo pleaded, trying to pull the man back. Dream stifled a laugh at two men - one a founding father of a nation and the other a renowned warrior - bickering like children.

“Just let Techno call Phil,” Dream laughed, walking down the stairs leading deep into Pogtopia. Techno fiddled with the communicator for several moments before it crackled to life.

_ “Hello?”  _ A voice with a british accent drifted from the communicator, and Techno’s face split in a wide grin.

“Hey Phil,” He grinned, “ _ Ha!  _ I told you I could figure this device out Wilbur!”

“You just got lucky,” Wilbur shot back.

“I can hang up and you can try,” Techno offered, “See if it’s luck then.”

_ “Boys,”  _ Phil’s voice was stern, or an attempt to be stern. Whatever attempt Phil had of trying to be strict was ruined by the laughter that bubbled out of him.  _ “Were you just lonely or was there an actual reason to call me?” _

“Do you think we should uh tell him over comms?” Wilbur asked, the previously casual and uplifting mood falling back into a serious one.

_ “Tell me what?”  _ Phil’s voice demanded. Techno visibly winced.

“You guys didn’t tell him yet?” Dream turned backwards, eyebrows raised. He wasn’t wearing his mask. There’s no point to. These people knew who and what he was. It was nice to take off that mask once in a while.

“We’re not sure how to uh…… break it to him,” Techno fiddled with the communicator as his eyes darted around the ravine.

_ “Break what to me?”  _ Phil’s voice drifted from the communicator, both Wilbur and Techno visibly cringed.

“Y’know what? Just- Please get to the DreamSMP,” Wilbur ended the call with that, then leaning back with a sigh. He missed his Dad, he’s not sure how to handle this situation with everything that had been going on, such as learning that his little brother was a Hybrid from the man he fought for independence from, who  _ also  _ conveniently happened to be a Hybrid! Their makeshift little family avoided the topic on Hybrids since Techno wasn’t comfortable with being a Glitched Hybrid, an anomaly, and Tommy would either phase out or now that Wilbur looked back at those times, low key panic.

\---

Phil was wandering the ruins of what once must’ve been an advanced building with technology built for research when his communicator buzzed. He fished it out of his pocket, lips playing into a smile seeing the caller. He answered the call, expecting Tommy yelling “PHILZA MINECRAFT” down the communicator, either Wilbur yelling along with him, or Techno chuckling and pulling his younger brother off the communicator. His heart sank as the memories of the conversation he, Techno and Wilbur shared began to surface again, wiping that image off his mind.

“Hello?”

“Hey Phil,” Techno’s voice drifted from the communicator, then grew slightly softer, as if leaning away, “ _ Ha!  _ I told you I could figure this device out, Wilbur!”

“You just got lucky,” Wilbur shot back.

“I can hang up and you can try,” Techno offered, “See if it’s luck then.”

“Boys,” Phil laughed, the sounds of Wilbur and Techno bickering like the children they once were lifted his sunken spirits. “Were you just lonely, or did you have an actual reason to call me?”

He could hear the bickering stop and the atmosphere drop from that one sentence. They had news. Phil felt guilty for ruining such an uplifting mood, probably for the first time in a while.

“Do you think we should uh tell him over comms?” Wilbur asked, the previously casual and uplifting tone falling back into a serious one.

“Tell me what?” Phil’s demanded. He could feel his children wince from thousands of blocks apart.

“You guys didn’t tell him yet?” Dream’s voice drifted from the communicator. Phil was a little surprised at that. Last time Techno and Dream had properly talked was during their duel. He remembered Techno crashing into their family, all energy drained, mumbling something about stress. He remembered patting his back, reassuring him that he did great and that Phil himself is proud. Tommy and Wilbur were ecstatic as they joined the group hug. It was one of his favorite moments.

And Wilbur…… He was not exactly the happiest with Dream, let’s just leave it at that.

“We’re not sure how to uh…… break it to him,” Techno voice was staticky as Phil guessed he fiddled with the communicator. It wasn’t the first time he did that, either. Sometimes Techno would call him during a situation where he was nervous, Phil found that fidgeting helps Techno relieve stress and nerves, and the communicator in his hand happened to always be the closest thing available. Unfortunately, fiddling with it messes with the signal.

_ “Break what to me?”  _ Phil’s asked. He could feel the tension over the communicator. The news was major, that was for certain.

“Y’know what? Just- Please get to the DreamSMP,” Wilbur ended the call. Phil held the device in his hand for several moments after Wilbur hung up. Phil glanced at his surroundings. There was a small pile of paper - notes, perhaps? - lying under some small bits of rubble. They were relatively well shielded, and its contents could be read. A decade or two olds, maybe?

_ Hello, I see you've stumbled across my notes. My name is Reina, or Dr. Heath. _

He stuffed the notes in his inventory, along with his communicator. Taking a quick look at his compass, he took off, fireworks in hand. Exploring can be done at a later date, ruins left behind will wait. Urgent business from family can’t.

\---

Tommy gasped as he woke to darkness. He blindly reached out, his fingers brushing against something smooth and cold. He blinked before remembering that he’s a Blaze Hybrid and he could create his own light. He slipped into his form, a floating bulb of fire lighting up along with the blaze rods. Panic started to seep in the moment he realized he was shut in an enclosed box.

_ “Wilbur please destroy that redstone block- Wilbur please I’m severely claustrophobic-” _

His own desperate voice rang in his ear, he quickly shook his head, not wanting to relive the moment. His breathing picked up when he tried to stand up but ended up hitting the ceiling instead. Damn his height. He could only sit, wrapping his arms around his knees. Breathing felt hard, the harder he tried to breathe the harder breathing got. Tears pricked at his eyes.  _ He wanted out he wanted out he wanted out he wanted out- _

Drip drop goes the lava.

\---

Tommy was no longer in the enclosed box. In fact, it was quite the opposite. There were no walls around him, just rubble of where it once might’ve stood. There were chairs toppled over, and the smell of smoke and firework tinted the air. The place he was in was clearly blown up. Tommy wasn’t sure, but he was certain he knew this place, although there was barely anything to recognize it by.

It was when he spotted someone cold and still trapped underneath the rubble of what Tommy then recognized as the election stage, that he realized where he was.

_ He was in a very large blown up Manberg. _

Memories that didn’t exist tugged at his mind, telling him that Wilbur was responsible. Telling him that everything has gone so terribly wrong. 

_ No, he was in the Nether and Manberg and his friends are very much alive- _

Wilbur blew up Manberg during the Festival.

_ What festival? Nah, I’m at the Nether and everyone is living happy lives- _

Wilbur blew Manberg up during the Festival.

Tommy wanted to scream as the memories conflicting his head clashed. He wanted to scream at the images playing in his mind. No! He’s in the Nether!  _ No! He was in Manberg, which was blown up by Wilbur, and Techno managed to end up killing the majority of the people attending!  _ NO!

His eyes flew open for real. He was met with a landscape of red and orange, glowing brightly. He was breathing hard, tears pricked at his eyes and he was sweating, pressing his blonde hair to his head. Something felt wet and warm on his fingertips, dripping down.

“That was successful,” A voice could be heard. A blonde with hair sown with orange strands in between falling around their shoulder and bright orange eyes observed Tommy’s position. A girl with red eyes and curly white hair wearing Ghast-styled clothing.

“What the fuck was that?!” Tommy demanded. Mothy shrugged.

“Look at your hands,” They suggested. He glanced down to find orange lava dripping down, seemingly to generate endlessly from his fingers. Tommy stared at it in confusion, mind still sluggish and reeling from the scenes he just witnessed.

“Lava manipulation,” Mothy smirked, “Your second profile. Thank me later.”

“ _ Thank you later _ ?!” Tommy snapped his head towards his sibling, “You literally put me through nightmares and shit, and I’m supposed to thank you? How did you do that anyway?!”

“It- It was me,” The girl next to Mothy gave a small embarrassed smile, “Um, my name is Vix. I’m a Ghast Mind Illusion Hybrid. If I wanted I could’ve given you a specific illusion, but since I don’t know you I decided to just go with whatever your mind thought was your worst fears. Sorry, Mothy forced me into this.”

“That was also part payback for leaving me with our lunatic of a Father for eight fuckin years. Vix was the only person who kept me sane,” Mothy added, “I would’ve loved to leave you to your own shit, but unfortunately, we need you. You're pretty powerful if you could just access more of your Potential, which helping you unlock your Second Profile definitely helped in that regard. The more you can access your Potential, the easier it is to snap out of the Mind Control function of Pain. I bet you don’t even know about Dad’s plans, do you?”

They didn’t wait for a reply before continuing, “Dad just declared war on the Withers. He had secured an alliance with the Piglins during this war. The Ghasts were threatened into cooperating. We both know the Magma Cubes won’t participate in this. I’m pretty sure he plans to invade the Overworld next. Considering how much hatred the Overworld mobs have towards the humans, they won’t help until it’s too late. We kind of need to break them down on the inside. Try practicing, but do not under any circumstances let him know you unlocked your Second Profile. It will throw major sus on me.”

It took a while for the words to sink in, but when it did, alarm shot throughout Tommy’s nerves. War declared on the Withers? Dream was a Wither, would he be sent to fight this war? Overworld invasion? Everyone else he knew was probably in the Overworld with little to no experience dealing with hostile Hybrids, how would they handle the invasion of what could quite possibly be the most skilled in the Nether?

Mothy was right, if their information was correct. The two needed to break the Blazes down from the inside. However, Tommy could get mind controlled anytime. Mothy can’t afford to do anything too obvious, or their freedom, their biggest advantage, would be taken away.

The question remains: How?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ender Hybrids are interesting. They seemed to hold the most secrets. Why black and purple? Of all colours? They also hold the most mysterious abilities. Teleportation? Dragon fire? A type of flame even the Nether fear?
> 
> Their Hybrids seemed to be the only type to be able to be created by infecting regular humans. Doing so would cause the subject to slowly lose all human memory. I lost my only son to that. The Ender Hybrids sent someone to take him to the End for proper Ender education and safety. I need to find a cure, somehow. I need to get him back. That is the main goal of my research.
> 
> How did Overworld and Glitched Hybrids resist Ender Virus transformations.....? (Unless the Energy theory is false?)
> 
> ~ Reina Heath
> 
> *Glitched Hybrids is a term referring to Hybrids born to human parents


	9. Songs of Secrets and Screams of Writer's Block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BACKSTORY CHAPTER BECAUSE WHEN IN WRITER’S BLOCK, WORLDBUILD (pro tip, well for me anyway. I always somehow end up with worldbuilding ideas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I ALSO FOUND OUT I’M CHAOTIC NEUTRAL SO THAT’S POG  
> UM THE SECOND PART OF THE TITLE IS ME VENTING ABOUT WRITER’S BLOCK
> 
> ALSO OBLIGATORY HOW IN MINECRAFTIA DID THIS GET SO MANY KUDOS I WAS GONNA SAY THANK YOU FOR 6900 HITS CAUSE HAHA FUNNY NUMBER - THIS IS THE MOST ATTENTION I’VE GOTTEN FOR SOMETHING I CREATED THANK YOU SO MUCH :D

CHAPTER NETHER

The boy was not supposed to be out. He was supposed to be training or something, just not outside the Citadel. The guards were trash, though, and it was easy for a little boy to slip past. Especially if the little boy can fly and was incredibly independent for his age (He was six).

Now he’s sitting beside a portal with a black frame and swirling purple insides. The way the purple circles swirl were hypnotising to the young boy, promising adventure and thrill. Promising exploration of the unknown and the key to the prison he was trapped in. He played with his crown while staring at the portal, a crown made of gold and without gems. It was a simple design, a traditional one.

The boy sighed and picked himself up before someone stepped through. He immediately brightened. The human man showed up! He promised he would. The boy threw himself into the human man, who chuckled and ruffled the boy’s hair. The human man was…… What the boy considered a second father. Or was he more like an older brother? The boy couldn’t tell at the age. What he _could_ tell, though, was that he far preferred the human man over his actual Father, and being the oldest child, he had no idea what an actual older sibling feels like.

Humans were really nice people, they really are! The boy didn’t understand why his Dad hated them so much.

(no, the human man isn’t any mcyt. He’s just some random explorer with a heart who took a liking to the young blaze boy with a conservative father)

\---

The girl - well, for today - was tired. They were just twelve, and had to single-handedly tackle the responsibilities of a ruler, a job meant for two (Most often a King and Queen). Their brain felt like absolute mush, they were lacking sleep (Thank goodness Phantoms don’t spawn in the Nether), and they felt like shit in general.

_Milk slows the Wither Effect- Wait, does that extend to Hybrid Wither Effect or is it just regular Wither Effect……?_

The girl groaned as they flipped through the encyclopedia again. _Okay, it extends to Hybrid Wither Effect too. Although it doesn’t work as well._

“Oh fuck-” The girl swore as they accidentally kicked the table too hard, “Fuck that sonuva-” Taking deepbreaths to calm themselves, and slowly releasing tension. They could play calm when they want to, but when they’re alone and extremely frustrated, mixed with irritation, they could get mad.

_Focus. History. History. What the fuck is going on with Nether’s history. Uh, fuck this shit. I don’t need to know how the first Blaze King came to be. Recent History sounds a lot more entertaining, I’m not calming down by reviewing material I have no interest in-_

Deep. Breaths.

_Current Blaze Rulers:_

_ > Volcanic => King _

_ > Fye = > Queen _

_ > Mothy => Heir _

_\--------------------_

A name was furiously crossed out repeatedly, to the point the parchment even had a tear where the name was. Mhm, properly disowned, the bastard was. That wasn’t too hard to remember. Notable events? Nothing much except for the disownment and banishment of the girl’s older brother.

_Current Wither Rulers:_

_ > ??? => King _

_ > ??? => Queen _

_ > ??? => Heir _

They were easy to remember. They’re always so secretive. It was rumored that only the Enders know the names of the Wither Ruler’s family, due to the infamous friendship the Wither King and Ender Queen once had. The girl had a slight suspicion on what broke the two’s friendship apart, it wasn’t hard to see once you studied the Ender chart.

_Current Ender Rulers:_

_ > Lycaeus => Candidate (Deceased) _

_ > Lyza => Queen _

_*Unsure whether heirs exists, Enders haven’t been sighted for years_

The girl tapped her chin, sighing a bit. Everyone was so secretive, at least they knew the names of the rulers of the Enders.

\---

CHAPTER ENDER

The woman looked a lot younger than she was. She looked like she was in her early twenties. Sitting on top of an obsidian pillar, twirling a crown made of black metal and purple tips glowing. A thin blade styled with an outlandish design laid on her lap, made of obsidian with its purple veins. Hair that fell around her shoulder-blades were braided with purple ribbons (That was a rare hairstyle, she preferred to let her hair down). She looked authoritative with her getup of a black shirt, purple straps, black pants and black boots.

The woman was Lyza, Queen of the Enders. And from the way she presented herself, nobody would’ve guessed the personality she had on the inside.

A glance at the ground made her attach the crown onto her belt, sheathe her sword, and teleport onto the ground, dragon-like wings unfolding. The young boy that greeted her there waved, clearly very young with blonde hair tied back in a small ponytail. Lyza knelt in front of the boy, ruffling his hair and brushing wings, like her own Father had done whenever she was agitated.

The boy looked nothing like her, but then again, Enders did not need to reproduce through blood, and they often created hybrids on accident.

_“You know, humans don’t adventure to the End often,” Lyza glided down, landing near the man with short, blonde hair and binoculars. He was chewing on a piece of bread, a foreign food from the Overworld. Lyza would have to give the Overworld kudos for their food, but then again they had access to a vast abundance of ingredients, unlike the End where the only things you can eat are literally chorus fruit, popped if you want to._

_“I guess I’m an odd one out,” The man shrugged, “When do you think the portal would open?”_

_“Hmph, I can open one,” Lyza fiddled with a strand of her hair, “Unfortunately, only Enders can go through Ender-force-opened portals.”_

_“Pain,” The man laughed._

_~~_

_“Are you sure?” Lyza shot the man a look of concern, “I told you about the Ender Virus that’s in chorus fruits. There is a chance you won’t remain human, and any options there are that‘s not you remaining human, you’ll lose your human memories. You’d forget your wife, and your son. There’s also a chance you’d infect them the moment you go home.”_

_“I don’t have much choice,” The man replied, his playful demeanor gone, “I’m going to starve if I don’t do this.” He took a bite into the juicy, purple fruit._

_~~_

_“I warned you……” Lyza buried her face in her hands, “I warned you that you might infect your family. And now look. The virus you had acted late, you’re turning into an Enderman, and your son is turning into a dragon hybrid like me. You’re leaving your wife totally and utterly alone,_ _Heath_ _.”_

_The man was different now. Blackness was creeping up his skin and his eyes were purple now, “I- Well……”_

_“I’m going to have to take your son,” Lyza looked at both the man and his wife, who looked devastated, “It’s tradition, and he won’t remember you. I am quite literally the only one in all three realms who could teach him to contain and control his Ender abilities. Enders without control of their ability can be quite volatile, as with any other hybrid.”_

_“I’m sorry, Mr and Mrs Heath. It had to be done.”_

_ (*cough* they’re the same Heaths as the researcher in the Notes btw *cough*) _

Lyza pulled herself from the memory. The man, the explorer, had long since been gone now. The best she could do was raise the son the best she could. 

“Can we fly, Mum?”

The boy never got to call his biological Mother ‘Mum’.

Why did guilt hurt so much, even though you tried to prevent this tragedy for the widow?

“Sure. I think your Dad would like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ookay I’m just gonna confirm some hybrids/special abilities guys:  
> Tommy - Blaze  
> Techno - Piglin Brute  
> Dream - Wither  
> Eret - ???  
> Wilbur - ???  
> Phil - ??? (Reveal soon)  
> Fundy - Fox + ??? (no the other part isn’t salmon lol)  
> Schlatt - Ram (i mean these two are obvi hybrids)  
> Tubbo - ???


	10. Quicken the Pace

Dream had told Techno not to go back into the Nether, advising that the oncoming war might make the Nether mobs far more vigilant and on edge, making it harder to traverse the Nether’s terrain without agitating mobs. Dream also let it slip that Piglins have several Hoglins captive and domesticated in their camps as war beasts.

But here Techno was, standing on a red netherrack, fidgeting with his Netherite sword gleaming with enchantments, and staring at the camp of Piglins ahead. These are clearly intelligent, and they have far better gear. Techno didn’t even bother with wearing gold. He wasn’t here to barter.

To be completely honest, this wasn’t the first time he was in the Nether doing what he was about to do. And no, he wasn’t talking about some distant past. He had been in this dimension, regularly and recent.

_ Blood and magma dripping from a young boy’s fingertips. How did he get into this dimension? That portal was a trap. The authorities probably thought they could get rid of the problem child with a thirst for blood by tricking and forcing the boy into a portal, huh? Well unfortunately for them, the boy happened to be a Glitched Hybrid with the nature of the Nether. If they won’t let him out, he’ll make whatever being is out there listening to him in the Nether so afraid that they’ll  _ _ let _ _ him out. _

That was in the past. Very very far into the past. Techno felt a wave of nostalgia just thinking about it and gazing at the landscape and imagining the blood and magma that will get on his hands very soon. Techno chuckled a little at the irony.

_ I spent so long trying to get rid of that bloodlust by trying to avoid wars, and I get roped into major ones anyway. What a scam. _

The sword was silent when Techno unsheathed it. 

Several moments that were filled with surprised squeals and oinks and roars, then there was silence. During the silence, Techno was glad he always wore red.

Didn’t Dream say that Piglins respect strength, and that they’re one of the only Nether Civilizations which does not make their thrones and crowns hereditary?

\---

If Phil said he didn’t notice something was off with Techno, he’d be lying. He had been Techno’s only proper father figure in his life, and if Techno said he didn’t trust Phil with his problems the most, he’d be lying, too.

Phil noticed how Techno seemed more sleep deprived. Sure, to the others, Techno was always sleep deprived and sounded monotone or dead inside. Still, the minor changes in Techno’s behavior was a nod to something. Such as how he barely spent anytime in the potato field and much  _ much  _ more on training. It might make sense, but Phil knew farming potatoes was Techno’s way of destressing, and he knew Techno doesn’t function well under pressure. 

That, and how Techno somehow almost always disappears into the night, and why there was a Nether Portal in a hidden base under the nearby lake, and how Techno’s excuse for not being in Pogtopia was that he was sleeping in his own base. Uh huh, Phil’s not buying it. Goodness, he had to raise three chaos children, including Techno himself. Did he really think it’d work?

He also noticed how Techno constantly wraps his cloak around him, covering the white shirt underneath constantly. There wasn’t anything much to hide or any reason to cover it, so Phil suspected it was instinct or muscle memory. So what was he doing to have the need to cover up a white shirt…?

Wilbur didn’t seem to be handling himself well, either. The signs were a lot less subtle than Techno’s, and more worrying. The way Wilbur’s posture seemed less steady and proper. The way his humor changed and his laugh felt dry. The way he’d constantly shove his hands into his pockets. It strangely reminded Phil of the slow loss of ability to give a flip about anything and slight insanity? He hoped he was wrong, but Wilbur wasn’t the first person he had to watch spiral off the deep end.

_ He hated that being a Hybrid meant he’s undying - unable to die of old age but still able to die from flesh wounds and illnesses - Watching people crumble and still having the ability to care about mortals who would inevitably leave him alone.  _

“Techno,” Phil gave the Piglin Hybrid’s sleeve a small yank. Techno turned, slightly surprised and seemingly unsettled.

“Yes?” 

“Can we talk?” Phil could see that Techno was nervous. More proof he’s hiding something. 

“Uh… I don’t see the reason why we need……” Techno trailed off at the unimpressed look on Phil’s face.

“Techno, please. I can tell you’re hiding things from me, I’m your Father for goodness’ sake.”

Techno shuffled uncomfortably before leading Phil to a hollowed out room in Pogtopia, making sure sound wouldn’t leak and that it would be private.

“Uh, you remember a long time ago when I basically,” Techno paused as he struggled to find the right words to use, “When I- I really wanted to… to kill  _ things. _ I kind of thought I was over it, but apparently I’m not.” Phil noted the slight shake in Techno’s posture and the hybrid fiddling with his robe.

_ “I- I killed people. A lot of them. Animals too, and a-also mobs. T-They didn’t- I was the one who made them mad. I-Is this my Glitch? Why would you want a murderer l-living with you?” _

_ “You’re not the only one here that killed people. On a bonus, you’re just fifteen. Definitely not old enough to be condemned yet.” _

“How bad was it?” Phil asked, voice small. Last time Techno had an outburst of this part of his Hybrid features, it was  _ bad.  _ They nearly died, Techno nearly died, a lot of people died, a lot of mobs died, Techno may or may not have devastated a forest of most of its animals.

“I already demolished half a fortress and a bastion,” Techno glanced somewhere else, “I think I cleared a regular Piglin camp in a Crimson Forest a couple days ago. I don’t remember clearly when I’m…… Y’know.”

“That’s better than last time,” Phil offered encouragement, even though they could both tell it was forced, “And the first time you snapped, it lasted for a good decade.”

“Phil, I was a kid,” Techno’s tone was flat, “I was a kid with unbalanced nutrients. I was a lot less destructive given my physical limits. I’m twenty-one. I don’t need to spend that long to get that destructive.” Phil frowned.

“What are you planning?”

“I- uh,” Techno pondered on what he should say, “It’s…… It’s necessary.” This sent alarm bells down every inch of Phil’s body. Nope, nope nope. Definitely nothing good.

“Techno……”

“I’ll come out alive,” Techno reassured, “I calculated it. There’s an 80% chance I’ll come out alive and end up actually doin something helpful.” Considering it’s Techno, Phil wasn’t sure whether to trust that Techno actually ran calculations, or was just bullcrapping the entire thing. 

For the sake of his mental health, Phil hoped Techno had a plan. From the statistics Dream shared, they are not going to win this fight.

\---

Eret strolled along the Prime Path, enjoying the view. Something constantly tingles at his senses. Everywhere he went, a feeling of unease followed. That’s why he was out: To catch fresh air as opposed to the ones that seemed to have gone stale inside his castle.

Sounds that he should not have heard from that distance travelled to his ear. He felt even worse. Years of running, picking up pace every day until he was sure it wouldn’t catch up, affording to slow down and settling down in a seemingly regular SMP out of the way of everything. 

The red robe he was wearing felt suffocating. The crown felt heavy. The sunglasses felt deceiving. Why did he betray L’Manberg again? He definitely didn’t have use of kingship, even though he knew what to do (At least, enough to avoid ruin). He bit back a scowl as he gazed sadly at where the blackstone walls once stood. Walls that  _ he  _ built. Walls that he couldn’t stop being torn down.

That’s all he truly knew, wasn’t it? Betray, backstab, and  _ run.  _ Regret, shame, and  _ flee.  _ Gain someone’s trust, and hurt them once the opportunity presents itself. That’s all he really knew, and how many times would he repeat the cycle again? Gain trust, betray, regret, run away hoping for a blank slate, repeat.

Chill crept up his spine as he unconsciously found himself dragged closer to the community house. The lanterns’ glow was bright against the backdrop of the night, but nobody occupied the house. The portal’s noises were deafening. Taunting. Daring him to take a step within the swirling purple depths trapped in a black frame, created from fire.

War was really coming, huh? It always caught up. Eret should’ve known by now. Nobody successfully runs away from wars before it has its fill of scars and fear. War was not quite done with the myth yet.

  
(Recall, within your songs. Recall the deepest depths of your memories. Recall the thing that made your bones chill with terror.  _ Recall. _ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mirror mirror on the wall, could you show me my friend?  
> He was really weird, he looks like me! He sounds like me! He even has my name!  
> He’s really cool! He likes the stuff I like. I really like spending time with him!  
> He can only show up on a mirror or a reflecting pool, though. He said the same thing about me! Isn’t that weird?
> 
> ~excited scribbles of a child from a long long time ago~


	11. Check on the Locks (It's Rusting)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blaze King, you really should've checked on the locks ad chains.

Checking in with Piglins with a mind control crown was not cool at all. At least, not in the beginning. Tommy hated that the crown had no range limitations. That was  _ ridiculously  _ unbalanced. And the way the controls could be tweaked on his Father’s end just made it worse. It wasn’t always complete control, if it was, he’d be forced in the back of his mind. No, it could be partial control. Stopping him from doing certain things from a certain category of actions, but still allowing him to do everything else, giving him partial free will?

Which made it worse that he’s conscious of his surroundings, and could move around freely, but can’t do a damn thing related to getting away or stabbing his father in the back. He hated it, and he hated every moment he had to spend going back and forth Piglin camps.

Tommy could understand, at least partially, why his Dad put him on this trip. Netherians very rarely send their actual rulers out to check on their allies in fear of assassination and plots like that. The Piglins respect strength, and already had a history of randomly challenging ambassadors sent. He had a large potential himself, and although he couldn’t access all of them, he’s pretty well versed in what he  _ could  _ access and it’s often very explosive. Wrecking massive havoc was a talent Tommy had since birth.

One roast piece of bacon later and Tommy was free to do the job he was supposed to do. He hated being here. He hated having to act all proper and formal and shit. He so wanted to just burn the whole place to the ground, or blow it sky high. But  _ no,  _ that’s apparently categorized into betraying the Blazes. 

Alright, three camps down. A million more to go. Pog!

This is why he despised being Prince of an entire race, responsible for large scale diplomatic trips. He hated it even more than he would’ve what with his hatred stemming from his Father.

He thought it couldn’t get any worse, when all of a sudden he heard  _ screams. _

No, not human screams. Pig-like high pitched squeals that are the equivalent of screams. Tommy glanced at the Piglin Camp-Leader he was talking to a moment ago, who gripped his sword tighter and seemed to have gone a shade paler.

“T-There’s something missing from w-what I told you earlier,” The Camp-Leader stuttered, slowly stepping away from the direction of the screams, “O-Our numbers w-were dropping. S-Some mad hybrid w-wanted us dead.”

“Hybrid?” What hybrid?

“G-Glitched. I-I think. H-He’s a P-Piglin B-Brute.” The Camp-Leader seemed utterly terrified. Tommy didn’t know much about Piglin culture, but he assumed as much as they respected strength, being massacred is enough to scare them. Something else caught his attention, though. Piglin Brute Hybrid? Glitched?

That rang a bell, Tommy glanced at his surroundings. The screams were growing louder and closer, and the Camp-Leader looked ready to piss his pants.  _ Pissbaby.  _ Tommy had to bite back a laugh at the thought. The intruder was probably attacking from the west wing, and Tommy’s thoughts were running wild.  _ Piglin Brute Hybrid. Glitched Hybrid. Massacres?  _

Tommy ignored the Camp-Leader’s concerned shouts as he took off in the direction of the commotion. Worst case scenario, he dies and well, he’s better off dead than a mindless servant. Best case scenario……?

He threw himself behind some fallen crimson logs that the Piglins created to form a semblance of a camp, blaze rods tucked safely in front of him and out of sight. He could hear crossbow bolts firing and missing, the clashing of netherite and gold, and the gold shattering. Terrified squeals filled the air, but it was laced with awe and reverence at the intruder’s skills. 

He afforded to take a look at the battle. The intruder was a man in his very early twenties, with a golden crown that may or may not have blood stains on. His hair was long and pink, and although long hair normally gets in the way of fighting, Tommy could tell it wasn’t even a nuisance and that the man was used to fighting with his hair down. The red robe the man wore was familiar, the white shirt has ceased its original color. The man seemed to enjoy the bloodshed around him, following what Tommy knew was instinct.

The way the man was acting was so familiar, Tommy had seen it before. He waited until the screams died down before attempting to show himself, if he appeared any earlier, he would’ve died, no doubt about it. 

“Ow,” He mumbled as he got up, throwing stray straws and newborn fungi from his hair and dusting fine, red dust off his clothes. He faced the intruder, whose eyes seemed blank and his grip was shaking. Blood stained the blade and if Tommy was being completely honest, he looked terrifying. For a moment, he wondered if he came out too soon.

Then the blank cloud in the intruder’s bright red eyes cleared, and its color dulled and boiled back down into brown. Confusion and other emotions flashed in those eyes, but then snapped back into recognition. Surprise and relief seemed to seep into his expression.

“Tommy?” Techno asked, voice laced with slight disbelief. Tommy couldn’t blame the guy, the last time they’d properly seen each other was before DreamSMP, probably SMPEarth? It felt like an eternity ago, and probably was.

“Hello Technoblade,” Tommy laughed, nervousness evident in them. He’s constantly glancing between the wreckage of the battle and his adoptive older brother, a terrible sense of familiarness settling in. “Gone off the deep end again?”

“That’s…… not funny,” Techno sighed, “What are you doing here?”

“Abusive Dad wants me to check up on Piglin allies because tradition and shit makes it so he won’t do it himself,” Tommy replied, “Oh, and while I have free will, I physically can’t get out of this situation, so please don’t make a sarcastic statement about that.”

“Right so……” Techno trailed off, “Dad is at the DreamSMP now, too. Uh…… Nobody’s sure if you’re dead or alive.”

“Dad will keep me alive until the day he dies, then he’s taking me with him,” Tommy laughed bitterly, “You guys don’t have to worry about keeping me alive. What about you, big man?”

“Feeling pretty homicidal, not going to lie,” Techno distractedly fidgeted with his sword. He wasn’t sure what to think or what to feel to see Tommy alive and…... withdrawn. Maybe Tommy recognized that Techno was not himself, and knew better than to intrude too close into his personal space. Last time that happened, it did  _ not  _ end well. (It was like what Phil said earlier, everybody in their little family came close to dying at least once. There were human casualties. Techno massively screwed up an ecosystem. That was no exaggeration.) 

“You’re not going to…… Lose it on me, are you?” Tommy shuffled uncomfortably as memories he’d rather forget surfaced. 

_ Stumbling backwards, eyes wide. He didn’t mean to- He didn’t mean to disturb Techno. It was just- He was just gone for too long and Tommy was curious and a bit worried and wanted to do his annoying shit- He didn’t mean to stumble on the Piglin Hybrid hunched over multiple carcasses of wild animals and several mobs, blood staining his clothing. When he turned, his eyes weren’t the brown Tommy was used to, they were bright, bloody red. He barely had time to dodge before Techno lunged, seemingly unaware of Tommy’s identity- _

“I don’t think so,” Techno paused, “You caught me  _ after  _ I was done with my rampage. Last time you decided to interrupt me while I’m in the middle of one.”

“You were fuckin crouched over a pile of  _ bodies _ !”

“That should be enough proof that I indeed hadn’t snapped out of it. Nobody taught you not to approach a bloody person crouched over a pile of bodies of different mobs?” Techno snorted. This interaction felt familiar and comforting, in a way.

Then Tommy suddenly shouted out and clutched his crown, the red gem glowing brightly. He was clearly in pain, and Techno’s mind went temporarily blank before remembering Dream mentioning something about cursed crowns or something? 

“ _ Techno get it off! Get it off! GET IT OFF! _ ” Tommy was on the ground now, thrashing about trying to pull the crown off and failing miserably. It physically pained Techno to see Tommy this much in pain. He tried to approach and yank the thing off. It wouldn’t budge.

“ _ Get it off please get it off get it off it hurts so much please- _ ” Tommy was begging at this point, “ _ It never hurt this bad before why now why now please no get it off please- _ ”

“I- I can’t,” Techno stammered, “Tommy I can’t.” He tried to get down the boy’s level, offering any awkward form of comfort his mind would allow him to give. He didn’t know how to deal with a torture-session like this, or a breakdown, or extreme emotions from someone who normally doesn’t show them.

When the torture was done, Tommy was reduced into a child feeling phantom pains of what was quite possibly the worst thing he had ever felt. Techno was kneeling by the boy hugging himself, shaking, lava tears running down his face. Techno reached out to give him a pat on the shoulder, then wincing as he realized that action might not be appropriate.

To his surprise, Tommy latched onto Techno after that gesture, as if remembering that he wasn’t alone and that his older brother was there. He buried his face in Techno’s shoulder, the lava burning bits of the cloth and the smell of burnt cloth mixed with blood slowly drifted into the stale Nether air. Hands awkwardly returned the hug.

“I’m so tired of this,” Tommy’s breath hitched, “I’m so tired of- of him being able to just- to just do this shit to me any damn time he wants and- I guess he got suspicious and- Oh fuck-”

“Did your biological Dad do this everyday?” Techno asked. Tommy gave a small, quiet nod. Techno’s posture tensed and straightened. That bastard did  _ that  _ everyday?

“We’ll speed up,” Techno promised. Tommy sniffled and pushed himself up, shaking a bit and wincing every time he put pressure anywhere. The speed the boy was capable of to gather himself to look normal and proper again was impressive.

“I- I got to go before he suspects anything,” Tommy cleared his throat, “I- Oh fuck please hurry up. To get that crown off, I’ll need someone with more magic than me. I think Dream does? I don’t know, I only know he has a lot.”

“The green guy will come, I’m pretty sure,” Techno tried for a smile that won’t look creepy, “You shouldn’t have hugged me. You’re all bloody.”

“And I burnt your robe. All is fair and square, my friend.”

(ANGST BONDING POG)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "fuck fuck fuck oh fuck- which bastard stole the fucking disc number 12?!"  
> "oh freaking great. Mirror Images of cross-universe versions of the mcyt involved? VERY FUNNY MR CULPRIT IM TRYING TO KEEP EVERYTHING IN THE SAME UNIVERSE-"  
> "don't you dare touch King and Rebel, I swear that Fantasy AU cannot be touched more than it is. Don't you dare touch Winter Apocalypse either, that irl AU stays PRISTINE"  
> "dAMN RESEARCHERS AND THEIR LUST OF KNOWLEDGE AND MANAGING TO GET AN OC HYBRID WHO JUST SO HAPPENS TO HAVE A MIRROR IMAGE"  
> "fuck you too Lab AU"
> 
> "oh my fuckin- Sora you just- Telling stories by leaving clues in notes is so hard, you know that? ALSO IT WAS ORIGINALLY ONLY SUPPOSED TO BE WORLBUILD DID YOU KNOW THAT TOO?"  
> "no, you did NOT do me a favor."


	12. I'm About To Do Something Stupid And Impulsive And Reckless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not a story chapter, but incredibly important lmao you might wanna tune in or be confused

Hello! My dear readers! This book have not been updated in a while!

The reason is that I am currently preoccupied with Exile Arc stuff, I wanna write Exile Arc in Hybrid AU. Plus like the more I look back onto this story I find that Tommy's motivation for staying is kinda scuffed in Election Arc setting, and that it would fit loads better with Exile Arc.

Okay what I'm trying to say is that I am rewriting the first few chapters to make it so that the little Blaze Gremlin child fled back home because of the Exile, and not Election. Dream's still a Wither so it would change their relationship n shit. Don't unsubscribe! I'm just going to be editing the previous chapters, don't know if you get notifications for that.

I'll make another update so y'all get an email after I'm done rewriting. If you still want to read the Election Arc vers of this book after I'm done rewriting, I'll have you know I archive most of my writing on Google Docs so if the majority of you still want to read Election Arc vers of "LB, CH" I can offer it.

So...... Expect little updates in the next couple of months cause I am procrastinator master and a huge one at the end of it?

Aight, anyhow, see you later! I'll still be writing random stuff in my profile so uh, if ya wanna read DreamSMP weird stuff check out my other stuff? (Self promoting pog-)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [for your tears are pearls (that could pay any debt)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27166696) by [cowboysapnap](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboysapnap/pseuds/cowboysapnap)
  * [Why care about anonymity when someone else is acting Shitty](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27144689) by [Thing_Of_Trash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thing_Of_Trash/pseuds/Thing_Of_Trash)




End file.
